Snapdragon
by Book of Aster
Summary: Slash,no incest. Harry Potter is the prodigy, his younger brother by five years, Alain, the BWL. After killing their mother at 15, Harry's on the run, and Alain must now deal with his obsessive brother, who's one desire is to break him completely. Evil!HP
1. Chapter 1

**Aster**: First story up! I've been working hard on this one. This was an answer to a challenge given by Aya-dono that I found in one of the Writing Challenges Forums. I found it interesting, so I WILL WRITE!

Challenge (the one I took): So the main things should be...Sometime around when Harry's six, Voldemort attacks, both kids survive. Parents treat both kids equally, BWL/GWL!sibling isn't crazy-spoiled (though (s)he IS naive), and Harry's a magical prodigy/genius. Harry loves little sibling (obsessively), then massacres Lily and friends (NOT James, Remus, or Sirius; who are not there at the moment) while sibling is present. Harry tries to get sibling to kill him before massacre, but sibling thinks he's joking/doesn't understand/cannot do it. After massacre, Harry tortures sibling and escapes.

So, take it from there. I just wish for Harry to 'visit' sibling again and again (when sibling is attending Hogwarts, so there's not an over-abundance of OC's), torture some more, maybe torture/kill sibling's friends while he's at it. It can focus on either Psycho!Harry's schemes or BWL/GWL!sibling's suffering.

**Warnings**: There will be eventual slash (boyxboy), but none too soon. Romance is not a major element in this fanfic. There will be mentions of torture, rape, and other Really Bad Stuff. Possible Major Character Deaths. And, of course, OOC-ness. And, it seems kinda of, incest-y, BUT ITS NOT! He's just really, REALLY obsessive.

**Disclaimer**: The Harry Potter series is owned by J.K. Rowling. Not mine!

**Pairings**: Too early to tell.

**PROLOGUE:**

_October 31, 1981_

Harry was six years old when Dark Lord Voldemort attacked his home.

James and Lily had been out on Order business, leaving Harry and one-year-old Alain in the care of their trusted friend, Peter Pettigrew. Harry didn't even notice Peter's absence, absorbed in entertaining his little brother with a fake wand. Quickly putting away the toy when Alain looked ready to drop off into sleep at any given moment, the ebony-haired child took the baby upstairs to put to bed.

It was then Harry felt it. A sickly, ominous feeling that nearly swallowed his senses and left him frozen to the spot. However, a small whimper from Alain had the child springing into motion, quickly locking the bedroom door and jamming a chair under the doorknob. Taking several steps back and hovering in front of Alain's crib protectively, he watched the door with growing apprehension and fear in his eyes, and the soft sound of footsteps echoing in his ears.

The lock clicked open, as if by its own accord, but Harry could _see _the shimmering traces of red encasing the doorknob before fading, like a net of crimson stars. His gaze was interrupted when he felt the rush of magic, and he quickly turned his back to shield Alain, just as the door burst to pieces, splinters sailing across the room. When the wood had settled across the floor like fallen soldiers after an explosion, Harry dared to right himself and turn around as the figure walked through the entryway.

It was a skeletal man that greeted his sight, with skin as pale as death and a serpentine face. Glowing red eyes that seemed to come out of nightmares were attached to the horrific visage that stood in Alain's nursery room. Lips drew back in what looked to be a smirk, the ruby-colored eyes glowing with triumph and disdain. His wand was held in a relaxed grip, his eyes alighting upon the only thing blocking his way to the child prophesized to destroy him: a small boy with wild black hair and wide green eyes, framed by spectacles.

"Move aside, you insolent child, and I may just spare your life." the dark wizard hissed, voice caressing each syllable like satin.

Harry did not move, nor did he speak. What could be said in reply to that? Regardless, the ebony-haired child felt rooted to the spot, the wailing of his baby brother behind him tugging at his heart. There was a ringing in his ears, his heartbeat erratic, and the strangely hot sensation of water running down his cheeks. _I'm sorry. I'm sorry I can't do anything. But Alain, maybe we can go together. _the child thought, feeling almost numb.

A sneer came across the pale face, and the Dark Lord merely raised his wand towards the child in front of him, a green light emitting from the tip before it burst forward like a bolt of lightning. It struck Harry with such merciless force he was flung over the crib by the sheer power, and fell limply to the ground after he had hit the wall. Bits of plaster fell into his fading vision, and it took all of his remaining willpower to not sink completely into the darkness.

His body ached, _burned_, all over, but he couldn't make a sound, or even move. He could only stare as shimmering green flowed throughout his body, like poison in his bloodstream, and seemed to taint everything it touched black. Harry could feel it travel throughout his body, squeezing his lungs, choking his heart. It was a silent sort of agony; a kind of pain that blocked out everything except the torture itself.

Harry did not like it.

Something, something in him snapped to pieces and burned away, before his magic _roared_, then became dense. As if becoming a solidifying liquid, it flowed so fast throughout his body, forcing the emerald-colored death magic out, harsh and unrelenting. Even through the renewed haze of pain, a small part of him still had enough energy left to feel triumphant.

_It does not belong. _he thought viciously, _It is not __**me**_

It had felt like an eternity had passed before the last of the death magic was out, and Harry was so exhausted he couldn't even move. He could see, however, as well as hear. The wailing of Alain was far from comforting, but he didn't hear much else, and the room looked like an anchor had been bounced off the walls several times. His weary brain wouldn't register much else, though, and he felt his eyelids slip shut.

"HARRY!! ALAIN!!"

_...Mum..._

Harry was six years old when he survived the Killing Curse and Alain was hailed as the Boy-Who-Lived.

**END**

Reviews are appreciated. Critiquing is, of course, welcomed. Flames will be ignored. Thank you!


	2. Chapter 2

**Aster**: Second chapter is up. Thank you for continuing to read! And again: this is an answer to a challenge posted by Aya-dono in a Writing Challenges forum.

**Warnings**: Eventual slash. Really Bad Things. And, I swear, NO INCEST! Oh, and in case any of you are freaking out—"Oh no! OC's!! I CONDEMN!!!"—Alain is the only prominent OC. Jack (you'll meet him soon) isn't around for very long. In fact, you only see him alive in this chapter. Isn't that grand?

**Disclaimer:** J.K. Rowling owns Harry Potter. (Alain is mine.) Anything else is not! Except the story.

**Pairings: **Still too early to decide. I'm thinking SiriusRemus, RonHermione, DeanLuna, DracoNeville, and SeamusBlaise. Other even MORE minor couples as well.

**CHAPTER ONE:**

Harry stared at the long-legged spider he had trapped in the jar. It was skittering around, as if trying to find a way out, but the green-eyed gaze of the ten-year-old boy did not seem to lessen one bit. If anything, it intensified, the eyes looking an ethereal green. Unperturbed by the observation, the spider continued to skitter around frantically, as if the intentions of it's captor it already knew. But it was far too late for the arachnid; one of many that would be used.

Harry could see it. _It_ was faint, and needlepoint-thin, but the soft, shimmering orange was traced throughout the arachnid's body, like fragile, silken strings. It flowed along with the spider's movements, as if a wave in the ocean, and Harry had to stop himself from reaching out to try and grasp it. Maybe another time. Another spider.

Concentrating, he allowed his magic to swirl about his thin frame, watching the spider the entire time. To him, it felt as though the air was humming, and pressure was being exerted on his skin, like water pushing at his skin. Slowly, he began to pull; it was a strange sensation, "pulling" when one is not moving a muscle. It sort of felt like another pair of arms had sprouted from within him, and he need only think and will it to be done for the task to be accomplished.

Still, he continued, and he could already see the orange, shimmering strings being pulled, as if they were being tugged by invisible hands. There was no definite direction from where they were being pulled to; it was more as if the strings were tightening, as if being sucked out by everything around them.

One orange string came undone, and the spider fell to the side in a futile scramble as two of it's legs popped off. Another string, and then another, until the orange shimmer tracings were completely undone and dissolved away into nothing. Reaching out to where the spider's life--magic? energy? Still so many questions unanswered--the air felt particularly heavy, but no other sensations were forthcoming.

The spider itself was a mass of limbs, unidentifiable as any sort of creature. It looked like nothing more than smudges of black, it's thin legs nothing more than dust and it's small body indistinguishable from the smudge of guts mixed with the remains.

Slowly, a smile came upon Harry's lips. _Success._

Just then, thundering footsteps were heard escalating the stairwell, and Harry calmly put away his latest experiment, just as the door to his room flew open. A small, ebony-haired child ran in, grinning excitedly. Hair not quite as messy as Harry's, but his eyes were the same vibrant shade of emerald green. His nose was slightly longer and narrower, and his cheekbones more prominent, but other than that, he looked like a smaller carbon-copy. The most noticeable thing about his appearance, however, was the spiral-like scar on his forehead; in the exact same place as Harry's own lightning-bolt shaped scar.

"Dinner, Harry, hurry! Dad says we can fly after we finish!" the young boy exclaimed, nearly dragging the taller boy out of the room. Harry laughed good-naturedly, a smile on his face. "Though you shouldn't eat too fast, Alain, or you'll get a stomach ache." the older boy warned. Alain just snorted, clearly dismissing the advice.

As Harry was pulled along into the dining area, he was greeted by the sight of his father already seated at the table, an amused smile on the man's face at the sight of the two. "Hope we weren't interrupting something?" James mused, a grin threatening to converge on his lips. Harry flashed him his own little grin. "Would it have mattered?" the older Potter child replied. James chuckled with a shake of his head as a response.

"Alright, sit down, so we can all watch Alain mimic a vacuum cleaner." Lily said, walking in, a pot of roast beef floating behind her. Alain pouted at the jibe, as the other two started snickering. After everyone had finished getting their desired morsels on their plates and started eating, conversation began to spring up.

"One more year, Harry, then you'll be eating Hogwarts food." James started with a proud grin. Harry just nodded absently, chewing his food, as Alain spluttered his own mouthful all over the table. "Alain!" Lily chided with a frown, as her younger son coughed. James had an eyebrow raised at the behavior, but Harry merely swallowed his food with a soft sigh.

"I don't see why Harry has to go there; he's smart enough as it is!" Alain finally managed out. Harry smiled. "Thank you, Alain." he murmured, just as Lily began her half-argument, half-consoling speech on the reasons as to why Harry had to go to Hogwarts. This speech had been used more frequently as the time for Harry to go to the magical school drew nearer and nearer.

James finished off his meal as the speech reached its conclusion, and without any more preamble, whisked away the two boys into the backyard for some stress-relieving fun. Alain hurriedly grabbed his and Harry's brooms, handing it off and taking flight. Harry soon followed with a small grin and chuckle at his younger brother's enthusiasm, as James joined them.

"Alright, boys, what shall it be? Throw around the quaffle, racing, or maybe chasing the snitch?" James asked with an almost manic smile. Harry rolled his eyes as Alain thought over the choices carefully.

"The quaffle!" the young Boy-Who-Lived announced, and James complied as he levitated a quaffle into his waiting hand, before shooting his sons a sinister smile.

Three hours later, three males trudged into the house, and Lily didn't even glance their way from the book she was reading as she issued her command: "Clean up." There were two groans, yet Harry laughed merrily.

"Do you _like_ taking baths or something, Harry?" Alain grouched, as the older boy pulled him into the bathroom. The younger boy looked over himself with vague disgust and irritation, before turning his attention back up to his older brother. "Why couldn't we just have Dad spell us clean?" he asked petulantly.

Harry shook his head, turning on the bathwater, before turning to Alain. "Casting a spell to clean yourself won't really get you clean, Alain; it just sort of freshens you up." he explained gently. "Besides, baths are relaxing." he added on cheerfully, picking up the small boy and tossing him into the bath, clothes and all.

"Harry!" Alain screamed when he surfaced. Harry laughed as he reached for the shampoo. "You look like a drowned kitten." he snickered, causing the boy to frown. "I am NOT a kitten." Alain muttered in protest, as Harry merely made an amiable humming noise, pouring shampoo into his hands. Massaging it gently into the child's hair, he drowned out the boy's grumbling by humming a tune.

"I can wash myself, you know!" Alain protested, just before Harry idly dumped a bucket of water over his head. Harry just smiled, reaching for the conditioner. "But I like washing you up, Alain. Its how we develop our relationship." the older boy said sincerely. "I have to take care of my little brother."

"I'm the Boy-Who-Lived." Alain grumbled. "Voldemort couldn't stop me; I can take care of myself. I'm strong." Harry rolled his eyes good-naturedly, already massaging the conditioner in. "You know, Alain, it takes more than just magical strength to actually be a good wizard." he said gently. Alain only gave him a 'what-would-you-know?' look most children favored before they hit puberty.

Harry flicked him on the nose in vague amusement. "Wipe that look off your face, Alain. I'm serious." Harry chuckled. Rubbing his nose in obvious indignation, Alain refused to respond. Harry laughed again as he pulled the younger boy out of the tub, before ordering him to strip. Giving his older brother an evil look, Alain grumpily did as told, only to have Harry instantly on him with a big, fluffy towel.

"Now listen, Alain." Harry said, once the boy was rubbed dry enough for Harry's satisfaction. "Sheer magical power is important, but you do require more than that. Strength comes from many different sources." Harry began, smiling disarmingly, already having the younger boy's rapt attention. "For one, there is the strength of mind. The will to do something no matter the obstacle, the power to decide despite the influence; that is where the strength of mind is most vital. Without that strength, people are nothing more than puppets on invisible wires."

Harry then grasped Alain's hands, kneeling down so he was eye-level with the other boy. "Next is the strength in your hands. The power to grip and steer your force, to stop when the obstacles have fallen, to help another despite the odds."

Next, he indicated to the child's legs. "Then there is the strength in your legs. The ability to know when you need to stand firm or escape from danger, to be able to tread a new path or walk an old one."

"The strength in your shield is important as well." Harry added, tapping the boy on the back. "Can you show your back to others, let down your shield around them; trust them completely? Do you have the power to protect that which is precious to you?"

Smiling, Harry tapped Alain on his chest. "Then, I'm sure you know, is the strength of your heart. The ability to love and not be afraid of it, no matter the loss." Harry looked straight into Alain's eyes, smiling a wizened smile.

"They say the strength of the heart is the strongest."

Alain frowned, looking thoughtful. "Is it?" he asked, staring up at his older brother with the curious eyes of a child.

Harry smiled, as if amused. "I wonder..."

LINE BREAK

Harry examined the Invisibility Cloak, throwing it around his small frame experimentally. James grinned proudly at the only visible part of the young boy's body--his head. "Inherited it from my own dad. Been in the Potter line for Merlin knows how long." he said. Harry whipped it off, folding it carefully and placing it in his bed as James searched through his drawers once again. Finally, he pulled out a piece of blank, worn parchment. Harry stared at it inquisitively, already noticing the faint traces of shimmering blue magic.

"The Marauders Map." James said by explanation, sitting down next to the boy, drawing out his wand. "Nothing to it, really." he murmured, before tapping the parchment with the slender piece of wood. "I solemnly swear that I'm up to no good." Instantly, lines began to draw themselves on to the parchment, the blue shimmer of magic only growing stronger in Harry's eyes, and then a map had been created.

"Is this...?" Harry started.

"Hogwarts." James finished, grinning.

"This must have taken forever to finish." Harry started appreciatively, and James' grin only grew at the young man's pleased face. "It was definitely worth all the sweat, blood, and tears." James replied, before tapping it again. "Mischief managed." And the map disappeared. A smile crept unto Harry's face. "It's brilliant. Must be the only one of its kind." James nodded to the not-quite-question, folding up the parchment reverently before giving it to Harry dramatically.

Harry laughed.

"Thank you. I promise I'll take care of it."

LINE BREAK

Alain was unsuccessfully trying to shrink against his older brother, bright red with embarrassment as crowds of people began to swarm around them like bees swarming a precious batch of flora. Glancing up, he felt a twinge of amazement that Harry looked completely unaffected by the attention his younger sibling was receiving. In fact, it looked like Harry didn't even know the people were there at all, looking through the shop windows the family passed.

Their father was in the lead, trying to glare off the spectators, but most just avoided him, only to be stopped by their mother, who was at their side, and her glare was even worse then James'. Behind them were Uncles Sirius and Remus, the former twirling his wand, icy blue eyes half-lidded with a dangerous glint.

Harry examined one of the wizards fawning over his brother: a man of medium-build and height, with a stubby chin and wispy dirty blond hair. He was nothing extraordinary; likely someone a person would pass on the street and never look twice at--if one looked at all. Still, Harry concentrated, and sure enough, he was able to see a mix of green and purple shimmer in him, though it wasn't bright and it looked sparse.

After trying it out on a few others, it was practically the same result. _Unless I've managed to randomly pick out the squibs of the group, I'm not seeing it all. _Harry thought, musing it over. Why couldn't he see it, their life magic? He was able to see the spiders, so why couldn't he see the average witch or wizard's? _Maybe they are too large. I may need to train myself though gradual procession. I started with a spider, so I should test rodents now or something. Humans are still far too large. _Satisfied with his reasoning and conclusion, he turned his attention back on to his sibling.

"Look, Alain; Florean Fortescue's Ice Cream Parlor." Harry pointed out lightly. Alain just gave the older boy a bewildered look, attempting to ignore the garble of voices questioning him and shouting his name. There was a low grumble from behind them, and an ominous growling noise, before Uncle Remus' soft chuckle broke through.

"Relax, Sirius; just imagine when _Alain's_ the one going to get his things for Hogwarts. It'll be _worse_."

"Thanks for that, Moony, really. It cheered me right up."

Alain had a cross expression between horror and shock on his face as they entered Gringott's, the crowd dispersing as the goblins glared them out. "You mean...they'll be like this _every time_?!" Alain choked out. Harry just laughed.

"Don't laugh, it isn't funny! Harry, stop it! Harry!" Alain whined, fists beating lightly against the still-laughing boy's arm. Remus gave the boys an amused look as James fetched the keys to their vault. Then, with a manic grin, he turned to his two unsuspecting children, leering. "Come on, boys; let's go take a trip down to the vault." he said, and both stared at him, just waiting for the maniacal laughter to burst forth.

"I don't wanna do that again." Alain mumbled out shakily, swaying as he exited from the cart. James had an ear-to-ear grin on, and Harry was helping his younger brother towards the exit, shooting his unrepentant father an accusing look. Lily was doing the same, only she added on a few swats to the man's head.

"So, where to first?" Remus asked, before they all stepped out of the entrance. "School supplies first." Lily ordered, glaring, and Sirius' exclamation of "Quality Quidditch Supplies!" died an early death. They headed towards the nearest shop, Madam Malkins, and spent a not-so-fun amount of time getting Harry fitted. They left the store, Alain growing more and more horrified with their journey in search of his brother's supplies.

"I hate the bookstore." Alain said blandly, as the group exited. Harry laughed lightly, giving his brother a consolatory pat on the head. "Now, now; it wasn't that bad." the older boy smiled. Alain shot him a withering look, as Lily and Remus talked cheerily about the books they found interesting, with the other two adults looking at them balefully.

"Now to Ollivanders." Harry stated cheerfully, and Alain instantly perked up with an anxious look on his face. "Oh, Mum, can I get a wand too? Pleeeaaasse?" he begged, looking towards Lily, who merely shook her head and shot him a 'you-better-stop-now-or-you-will-SUFFER' look. Alain deflated, earning more laughter from Harry as they reached their destination.

"Shut up, Harry." Alain grumbled, trudging into the store after the older boy. "Sorry, Alain, but you just look too funny with your emotional up-and-downs." Harry replied, ruffling his hair. Alain gave a shriek of protest and instantly tried to fix the mess, earning another chuckle from Harry for his futile efforts.

"Ah...Harry Potter." came a wispy voice, startling the lot of them. James not-so-subtly shifted behind Lily, as if trying to hide himself from the wizard as manly as possible. Sirius shuffled a little closer to Remus, who wore a bemused expression as Ollivander appeared and started to examine a still Harry. Alain was half-hidden behind him, peering up at the older wizard near-petrified.

"Delightful, just delightful! You're going to grow up into a powerful wizard, Mr. Potter, that I can already tell." Ollivander said, turning around and going back behind his desk. "And, James Potter and Lily Evans, along with Sirius Black and Remus Lupin." he greeted, glancing over the four, as measurements sprang out of nowhere and assaulted the eldest Potter son.

"Yes; and my wand still works wonders, sir." Lily smiled. Ollivander nodded. "Of course it does, Mrs. Potter, of course; the wand picked you, after all." he muttered, as everyone ignored (save Alain, who was watching in morbid fascination) Harry as he nearly choked on the tape measure in his mouth. "I wonder why your tongue needs to be measured..." Alain mused aloud, as Harry thankfully breathed in oxygen.

"Alright, now try this one." Ollivander said, shoving a wand into the boy's hands. "Rosewood, 12 1/2 inches, dragon heartstring." he recited eagerly, as Harry gave it a flick. Suddenly, shelves upon shelves in the back exploded. Ollivander quickly grabbed back the wand from the dazed boy's fingers, muttering "No, no, definitely not this one..." as he went through his stores.

"I want one..." Alain breathed, just before another wand was given to Harry. Another flick, and the wand jerked out of his hands and stuck into the wall, not unlike a knife. "No, not that one either." Ollivander muttered to himself, shuffling through more wands. Five wands later (along with a slightly charred shop owner and Sirius' missing left eyebrow), Harry's had yet to be found.

Ollivander paused, thinking deeply, before looking back at Harry. "Maybe...but..." his eyes flicked to Alain, whose own were still glassy with adoration and need, before looking back at Harry and turning around. "Yes, maybe..." he muttered, digging through the boxes. "Now where did--ah! Got it." Ollivander pulled out a box, took the wand out carefully, before gently handing it over to Harry.

"Go on, Mr. Potter." Ollivander urged, watching intently. Harry looked at the wand in his fingertips, before with a flick, pure white sparks shot out. "This is the one." Harry murmured, looking at it more carefully. There were faint traces of red shimmer, but nothing more extravagant.

"Yew, 13 1/2 inches; the core is a phoenix feather." Ollivander recited gleefully. "And my, what an interesting match you two will make." he added, examining Harry. "Why is that?" Alain couldn't help but ask; this man really gave him the creeps.

"The phoenix whose feather is in your wand, Harry Potter, only gave one other feather." the wizened wizard began, looking straight into his eyes. "And isn't it interesting that it's brother was the one to give your own brother that scar?" he murmured, pointing towards Alain's forehead.

"What...?" Harry whispered.

"Alright, I think its time to go home now. Here's your pay, sir." Lily said stiffly, placing the needed amount down and shuffling her brood towards the exit. Ollivander made an amicable humming sound, before his eyes once again locked on to Harry's.

"I think we can expect great things from you, Mr. Potter. You-Know-Who did great things; terrible, yes, but great."

LINE BREAK

Platform 9 3/4 was packed with all sorts of wizards and witches, the majority of so still in training. Owls hooted, cats screeched, laughter rumbled, and in the midst of the billowing smoke from the still Hogwarts Express and chattering friends reunited and families bidding their young goodbye, Harry Potter felt the vibrations of magic around him like one feels the waves in the sea as they swim. Only vaguely used to the powerful sensations, the eleven-year-old boy did not allow it to distract him as he focused his attention on the anxious form of his mother.

"You be safe, Harry, and listen to your Professors!" Lily fussed, straightening her oldest son's robes. Harry just smiled reassuringly at her as his father chuckled. "Lily, don't smother the boy." he said, before ruffling Harry's untamable hair. "Keep in trouble, now, Harry."

"James Potter!"

James ducked the oncoming blow, laughing, as Lily glared at him.

"I want to go, too, Harry!" Alain whined. Harry rolled his eyes, smacking the younger boy on the head lightly. "No. You're not old enough. Now stop complaining." Harry chided gently. Alain harrumphed and proceeded to sulk. A smile threatened to break through Harry's face, as his lips twitched upwards. "Really, Alain; I won't see you until the winter hols. Can't you look a little cuter before I leave so I can at least remember your adorable face?" he quipped absently.

"Cute? Adorable?!" Alain nearly shrieked. "I'm not a girl, Harry!" he ranted. Harry was shaking with silent laughter as he boarded the train, much to Alain's chagrin. "You're--You're horrible!" the younger wizard finally managed out. Harry grinned at him as he leaned out the window from his chosen compartment. "And you are simply hilarious, Alain." Harry replied.

"Remember to behave yourself, Harry! I don't want to hear about the next generation of Marauders, do you understand?" Lily called, as the train whistle blew, signaling the start of his journey. "Give 'em hell, kid!" James yelled as the Hogwarts Express began to move. Lily glared at James threateningly, as Alain rushed forward, waving madly. "You better write me every day!" Alain yelled, reaching the edge of the platform. Harry smiled.

"Of course I will!"

If they had known this would be the start of the downward spiral to hell that would become their lives, they would not have let him go.

LINE BREAK

The door to Harry's compartment opened, and another boy with a cocky smile and a confident stride ambled in, dirty blond hair cut neatly at his ears and dark brown eyes. He stowed his trunk without a word, and then sat down, across from the other boy. He grinned at Harry.

"Sorry about that, mate, just didn't feel the need to ask; the compartment is like public property, anyway, you know?" the blond said conversationally. Harry raised an eyebrow, amusement clear in his eyes. "My name is Jack Farrington. You?"

"Harry Potter." the other replied, smiling.

_There was blood, and it was everywhere, and it drenched the floors and the curtains and the walls. But still, there was no sign of the bodies, for surely there had to be many, with this much blood--and god, it was everywhere--and he felt it on his skin as he slid through the halls--_**it was everywhere**.

_"Mum! Mum!"_

_She had to be here, she had to be, because mothers don't die, they can't die. They lived and they loved and she couldn't leave him, she couldn't! He would not allow it! He tripped and fell, but he crawled back towards his feet, standing upright and barely supporting himself on the wall as he ran ahead, ignoring the blood now all over his clothes, over everything--_

_"Mum!"_

_And then he opened the door, and he met the bright green eyes of his mother's gaze, and he stared, and he looked up, and the same vibrant green eyes met his, unflinching, unyielding--those green, green eyes so like his own, only there was something in those eyes unlike him, something he couldn't place, and there was something there that shouldn't be--_

_And he was smiling—_

LINE BREAK

Drifting along in a boat with Jack, a brunette girl with pigtails, and a bored-looking black boy, Harry was able to feel the wards upon wards wash over him as he surely got closer to the famous magic school known as Hogwarts. The power, it was incredible, nearly robbing his breath from him. How had four people created such a magnificent structure that thrived with magic so fluidly that he could feel it from such a distance?

Harry was so deep in his own reverent thoughts that he didn't notice the wide grin on Jack's face as he began to lean heavily on the right side of the boat. Not until the boat began to tip did Harry catch on to what the blond was doing, hastily pulling him back. Jack laughed at the flustered look on Harry's face, completely ignoring the bristling girl. (The other boy was just ignoring them.)

"Can you _not_ try to drown us before we even reach the school?" Harry sighed. Jack grinned wider. "Oh, so I can drown you when we _do_ reach it?" Harry gave him a leveling look Lily often used when one of her boys had gotten in trouble. "I knew you were trying to do me in." the scarred teen muttered.

Jack laughed. "You figured me out!"

"What's the motif?" Harry couldn't help but ask.

Jack had on a mock-surprised face. "Motif? I don't need a motif! I can do something because I will it so!"

LINE BREAK

"Farrington, Jack."

Jack left Harry's side at the call of his name, taking a seat upon the three-legged stool and allowing Professor McGonagall to place the Sorting Hat upon his head. A few seconds less than a minute passed, before the brim of its stitched mouth opened, and with a billowed cry of "Ravenclaw!", Jack's destiny was drawn and his fate set in stone.

"Potter, Harry."

Ignoring the whispers that sprung up like wildfire, Harry made his way to the stool, taking his seat on it and having the Hat placed gently on his head not a moment later. There was quiet, at first, before the sound of someone humming in thought filtered into his head.

_You're going to be difficult, that I can already tell...your friend was right, you do have a sense of self-preservation, and your cunning is certainly up to par, though your thirst for power is slightly malformed._

_Malformed? _Harry wondered.

_Yes, for its not a thirst for it, but the desire to have a mastery of the power you possess. You certainly have bravery, and a sense of what is right and what is wrong...though it looks as if you choose to ignore this sense of justice. Your loyalty is strong, but strongest to yourself; not a very good team player. Your desire to learn is just as great, however. Good wits about you. _the Sorting Hat mused.

_But, even still, I think either Slytherin or Gryffindor will be the best choices to aide in your development. Do you have one you favor? _

Harry smiled to himself. _No. I favor no House. _

For a moment, Harry thought the Hat had grinned. _And it is that indiscriminate type of thinking that would have made you a great Hufflepuff. It does, however, make you a questionable Slytherin. Then you shall be..._

"GRYFFINDOR!!"

LINE BREAK 

The feather lay harmlessly on the desk in front of him, and Harry held his wand loosely, half-listening to the vertically-challenged professor attempt to explain the theory behind levitation to his students. Next to him, Jack was gripping his wand, staring confrontationally at his own feather, as if daring it to not listen to what he wanted it to do.

"Now, the incantation is _'winagardium leviosa'." _Flitwick finished, and the class watched as the feather floated upwards. He beamed at them. "I want everyone to practice until the end of the period." Soon, everyone started chanting the necessary spell, but not one feather had yet to float upwards.

Harry tried to choke down his laughter as Jack's feather started tap-dancing, much to the blonde's horror. "Well...on the bright side, at least its moving." Harry tried to put in helpfully, but immediately started laughing. Jack glared at him as he grabbed his feather before it could take another 'step'.

"Then you try, you miserable little bastard." Jack snipped. Harry rolled his eyes. "What an endearing friend you are." he muttered, before looking at his feather, his wand lifted. He stared at it, really looking at it, oblivious to the intent gaze of his friend. Jack was momentarily shocked to see Harry's eyes actually glow--_was this kid even human?_

Harry couldn't see the shimmer of life magic; in fact, nothing about the feather was magical. _I want to change that. _he thought, before he pointed his wand at it, more out of following instructions than actual instinct. He directed nothing out of himself, nothing out of his wand; it was like he had pulled at the magical strings of the air itself, as the shimmer of magic enveloped the feather. And with the same invisible hands he had used to pull that spider to pieces, he willed them to lift the feather towards the ceiling.

The feather floated upwards.

Flitwick squeaked in shock. "Mr. Potter--!" he could barely manage out. Pleasure flushed his face; the child had just performed a spell without speaking! Not even the sixth and seventh years had managed that!

And this was the first incident that displayed Harry Potter's innate control of magic. The mastery that would mark him a prodigy.

**END**

The usual: Please review, critiques welcome, flames ignored. Long reviews are also welcome. Thank you!


	3. Chapter 3

**Aster**: Aha! I bet you were all like "Another chapter! YES! Murder! Betrayal!" and then all you get is this newspaper clipping. Well, that's how I roll. But this is another chapter, and if you don't read it, I'm afraid you'll be terribly confused later on. So, thank you for reading!

**Warnings**: Eventual slash. Bad things happening. Torture, rape, murder… NO INCEST! (I'll point this out every chapter, just accept it.)

**Disclaimer**: Not mine. All JKR's.

**Pairings**: Still pending. Possible SiriusRemus, RonHermione, DeanLuna, SeamusBlaise, NevilleDraco, maybe even PercyHarry! O.o

**CHAPTER 2**

_**Potter Manor Massacre! Eldest Potter Son To Blame--and On The Run?!**_

_July 8, 1990--article by Florence Velrick_

_Late in the evening on July 7th, 1990, exceptional Auror James Potter came home to a most grisly sight-- the blood-covered halls of his family home, his own family not in sight. His beloved wife, Lily Potter, had told him earlier that day that some friends of her's would be coming over. His two sons, the prodigious elder, Harry Potter, and the famous Boy-Who-Lived, Alain Potter, were also reported to be home that night._

_James Potter, concern for his family overwhelming, searched the massive dwelling, following the trail of smeared blood. He was lead down into the basement level, and came upon the mutilated bodies of his wife's friends-- Alice Rendon, Michael York, Reese Mondel, and Marissa Silverstein. It became apparent later that the blood covering the hallways and most of the living room had been their's, before their bodies had been cruelly dragged down into the basement._

_"It was horrible." seasoned Auror Trent Airing told reporters. "The bodies had been ripped to pieces: we couldn't even tell which limb belonged to whom. He was a cruel bastard, doing this to such a degree that the families couldn't even mourn their loved one's respective bodies."_

_The 'he' in question would be none other than Harry Potter._

_After finding the remnants of the four corpses, James Potter went back up, searching the ancestral home for his family. He finally found his remaining family in the study usually occupied by his wife--who had been just as brutally dismembered as the others. The only thing left untouched would have been Lily Potter's head; left mockingly on a pedestal set in the middle of the room. _

_As if ensuring the Auror would have no time to let the sight of his beloved wife's remains sink in, his youngest son, Alain, was found bound on top of the desk, much like a sacrifice. His wrists were tied together above his head, and each ankle bound to opposite sides. He was covered in blood--some of others, most his own--and unconscious. Alain Potter has been reported to have suffered multiple injuries from, as of yet, unidentified dark curses, and even the Cruciatus Curse. He is, however, still alive and expected to make a full recovery._

_"We couldn't make sense of it," admitted Auror Regina Reynold, "Why would the sick little __**censor**__ kill all those people, his own __**censor**__ mother included, yet leave his little brother alive? Just to torture him? We couldn't identify any motives he may have had; nothing is adding up."_

_Harry Potter has been identified as the murderer of the five, by eyewitness testimony from Alain Potter, when the younger boy had recovered enough to tell Aurors what had happened. Harry Potter, 15 years old and just about to enter his fifth year in Hogwarts as a Gryffindor prefect, has yet to be found._

_"People are to be warned; this boy is highly dangerous. Do not confront him personally. Call Aurors immediately if you happen to catch sight of him. He is highly dangerous." Head Auror Rufus Scrimegour told the press. _

_The remaining Potter family has yet to comment._

**END**

Now, I bet this will confuse many people. Yes, four years have gone by since that lovely departure at the train station. Many things had happened during those four years. YOU WILL LEARN LATER ON WHAT. It's meant to keep people in suspense. Oh, and the chapters will be alternating focuses on Alain and Harry. Just to mention it now. So review, critique, no flames, THANK YOU!


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